Fish & Cinnamon
by Billyette-Bobilina-Josephine
Summary: A random, not-so-serious oneshot. I've noticed that Rolf is paired with Mist, and Boyd is paired with Mist, but... what about Oscar? Where is he? Well, he's here in a MistXOscar story. Don't read if you don't have a sense of humour!


Random MistXOscar oneshot pairing. Just 'cause Rolf and Boyd keep getting all the action. I mean, what about poor Oscar? He's definately the best of the three brothers. He deserves some love from someone other then Kieran. Because Kieran's annoying. Although Mist is too, I don't know if she's much of an improvement . . . . Anyways, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I, in no way, own Fire Emblem, or anything related to it. I'm just borrowing some characters. I'll put them back, I swear.

**Warnings:** Violence involving a spoon, suggestive-ness, someone cuts their fingers by accident.

Fish and Cinnamon

"Oh, no!" Oscar cried out, in as much as a panic that Oscar could be in. "Please, Mist. Look at what you're doing."

Mist looked down at the orangey-brown powder in her hand. "What am I doing?" she asked, confused.

Oscar gripped her hand and moved it to the counter. He then dumped all of the powder out of her hand. "Mist, you don't put cinnamon on a fish."

She pouted a little. "Why not? Cinnamon is tasty. I like it. Why can't it go on fish?"

Oscar shook his head and pulled out a lemon. He began peeling it. "Certain spices go with certain foods, see. Cinnamon and fish don't go together. The taste fine by themselves, but together, the flavours are all wrong."

Mist paused. Then she said, "But why not? Why don't they taste good together? If they taste good by themselves, then why don't they taste really good together?"

Oscar sighed and stopped peeling the lemon. He sliced a bit off and sprinkled cinnamon on it. Then he handed it to Mist and said, "Eat it. Tell me if it tastes right."

She ate it. After some amount of chewing and a swallow, she said, "It tastes fine. Like cinnamon and lemon."

He shook his head. "What did it taste like, though, when the tastes were combined?"

Mist shrugged innocently. "Cinnamon and lemon."

He grit his teeth and set her to work on the vegetables, enforcing the fact that "No, Mist, carrots don't need any seasoning."

She grumbled as she diced the carrots. Her mind wandered away. Somehow, she began thinking of Boyd.

Boyd was so strong. She wanted to be wrapped in his strong arms. She could imagine the pressure on her waist, imagined him leaning down and kissing her on the head, imagined herself looking up to see—

Ike? No. That wasn't right. Boyd. But she got them confused . . . they were so similar. Too similar, in fact. And it would be strange to be romantically involved with someone who was almost a clone of your older brother. It would be creepy, even.

So her mind moved on from Boyd/Ike. And it moved to Rolf.

Rolf was cute. He was nice. He was funny. What was there to not like about Rolf? Other then the fact that he was three years younger then her. Or the fact that he was probably not romantic at all, and was probably better left as a friend.

Shinon and Gatrie were just plain no.

As for Rhys—"Ouch!"

Mist dropped the knife, which was covered in her own blood. She clutched her hand and whimpered, blood seeping through the cracks in her fingers. Tears came to her eyes.

Oscar noticed the blood covering her hands and came to help. "Oh, Mist," he said, "are you alright?"

Mist closed her eyes and nodded. "F-Fine," she lied. "Just slipped with the knife. I-It's nothing."

"Here. Let me see." He took her hand in his to examine it. He sighed. "This looks really bad, Mist. I think you should go see Rhys. Get him to fix you up. We wouldn't want you getting all your blood in tonight's dinner."

Mist shook her head. "I'm fine, really," she said, a little dizzy. "Just let me keep cooking. I won't get any blood in the food, I promise. I'll go wash my hands right now."

Oscar pulled the young girl away from the food. "No, Mist. You have to go see Rhys. Look at how much you're bleeding. You can't leave that. You'll die of loss of blood if you do." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began walking out of the kitchen, taking her along with him. "I'll come with you. Please, just get yourself looked after."

Mist, having no other choice, grumbled in compliance. As an afterthought, she exclaimed, "Wait!"

"What?"

"The food! Nobody's watching it."

Oscar laughed. "No one needs too. Nothing's actually cooking yet. We were just preparing everything. It's fine. Don't worry about it. Worry about yourself."

~ ***** ~

Mist was in a terrible mood as she ate supper with the rest of the Greil Mercenaries. Everyone else, with very few exceptions, ate Oscar's cooking with a big smile on their face, and kept complimenting him on the great dinner. He just smiled and nodded in thanks, as he usually did. Soren grumbled to himself and Shinon muttered something about "I could've done better", but aside from these few exclusions, everyone was content.

As everyone finished, Mist began collecting the dishes. She sighed as she set out to wash them. Making food for eleven people was a difficult enough task, but washing dishes for them all was nearing suicide. Especially when those people, like a certain lord she could mention, were horrendous slobs that managed to cover their entire plates in bits of food.

Five minutes into the scrubbing, Oscar came into the kitchen to help. "Would you like me to take over washing or start drying?" he asked pleasantly.

Mist shrugged, still upset. "Doesn't matter," she mumbled as she kept cleaning.

He hesitated, but picked up the towel and began drying the dishes. "You know," Oscar said cheerily, "I think you're getting better with your cooking."

She eyes him oddly. "You can tell, can you?"

His warm smile grew in size. "Yes. You've still got a ways to go, but you've definitely improved. Once you understand how all the spices and flavourings work—"

Unable to contain her angst any longer, Mist yelled, "Well, I don't care, Oscar! I really could not care less about your stupid spices! It doesn't mean you can go around insulting my cooking! I don't care what you think! I think I cook just fine without your dumb flavours! Just stop boasting about the fact that everybody likes the food you make!"

In rage, Mist took whatever was in her hand—which happened to be a large, metal spoon—and proceeded to hit Oscar with it. She probably would have beaten him to death if he had refused to resist. But after the first few hits, he embraced her so that her arms were tight against his chest, and she could no longer strike him with the spoon.

Then, Mist began to cry. She sobbed against the man hopelessly. He stroked her hair gently and whispered, "It's okay, Mist. I understand. You're upset. Everyone gets upset. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. It was wrong. It's alright now."

She sniffed away the last of her tears and rubbed her eyes meekly. "I'm s-sorry, Oscar," she muttered. "You were just t-trying to help. I shouldn't have g-gotten so mad."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I was being rude by saying such things about something you've put so much time and effort into. Well, Mist, I think you're doing very good. You've come a long way. It won't be long before everyone will want to eat your cooking every night, trust me. You're a great cook."

"You really think so?"

If his smile could get any more loving, it did. "Of course I do."

She giggled just a little. "But that's only because I had the best to learn from! Sir Oscar!"

He laughed as well. "Thank you, Mist. I feel honoured that you think so highly of me."

Mist dropped the spoon and hugged the oldest of the green-haired brothers. What was there to not love about Oscar? He was nice, he was cheerful, he was friendly, he was am amazing cook, he was trusting and trustworthy, and handsome, and smart.

He was . . . perfect.

Mist gasped upon coming to this realization. Why hadn't she thought of Oscar before? He was the best of all the brothers, including Ike. If she married anyone, it would have to be Oscar. It could be no one else. He was the perfect man.

" . . . Mist?" he was currently asking. "Are you alright?"

Mist pulled away from him a little and looked at him in a different light. "Oscar, I—" she began, but he cut her off.

"It's fine, Mist," he said quietly. "Why don't we take a break? It seems like we're always working, don't you think? Not that I'm complaining—I enjoy being purposeful—but maybe we could get someone else to do the dishes. Sound good?"

She grinned. Just what she wanted. A whole night was now hers to spend with Oscar. "That sound wonderful," she breathed. "Let's do that."

Soon enough, both Oscar and Mist were sitting at the same table, talking and laughing. Shinon, meanwhile, was in the kitchen and was complaining about "having to do everything himself," and Titania, also in the kitchen, was saying something along the lines of "shut up".

Mist sipped her tea as Oscar said, "Rolf and Boyd really love you, you know."

It took all of her willpower not to spray her tea all over Oscar. "What?"

He took a sip of his own tea. "Please, don't be so humble. You're Rolf's best friend. You've been so kind to him. And you're the only one around his age. He has no one else to play with. You make him so happy. He talks about you all the time."

She breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Oh. I see," she said. "Um . . . and Boyd . . . ?"

Oscar's expression was warm, as usually. "Boyd is very . . . fond of you. He'd rather be in your company then anyone else's. He once told me that he thought you were one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Did you know that?"

Mist shook her head. "No, I didn't." She was unsure she should say what was on her mind, but decided to. "Do you agree with Boyd?"

Oscar seemed moderately surprised. "That you are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen?"

She nodded.

"No."

And in that instant, her heart was broken. It was as though it had shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, like glass. She had lost her purpose in the world upon hearing his crushing words.

Yet Oscar was not finished speaking.

"I think you are the most beautiful _woman_ I have ever seen."

Air got caught in her breast, and Mist found herself hardly able to breathe. She tried to pass off her embarrassment by saying, "Not that you see very well."

He laughed quietly, and then leaned forward, taking her hand. He whispered, "I see nothing else when you are around, Mist. I am blinded by your beauty."

Mist leaned forward as well. Emotions were running through her, emotions that she'd never felt before.

Oscar tilted his head as he closed the last few inches between them with a gentle kiss.

~ ***** ~

Mist was curled against Oscar's chest. He kissed him lightly as she moved her fingers in circles, giving him pleasure.

Oscar was panting, exhausted by his efforts to make Mist the happiest woman alive. After a few long minutes in the dark, Oscar said, "Mist, do you remember when I admitted I first had feelings for you?"

Mist moved into a more cosy position. "Wasn't that almost six months ago?"

"Yes. It's been half a year. Remember out first kiss?"

Mist smiled. "Of course I do. You tasted like fish. I kissed a fish and I liked it," she whispered.

"And you tasted like cinnamon. Like fresh, tasty, sweet cinnamon."

After a long, heavenly moment, Mist added, "You know what, Oscar? I think you were wrong."

"Wrong? About what?"

Mist's grin stretched from one ear to the other. "Fish and cinnamon _do_ go well together."

Oscar laughed.


End file.
